


Start of Something Good

by rivlee



Series: Capua Inc. [1]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barca meets Pietros...again. Part of a modern!au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Start of Something Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaygreekgladiator (ama)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/gifts).



> For Alex who wanted "Remember Me" Barca/Pietros set in a modern!au. This is in the same 'verse as _Every Move You Make_.

Years ago when Pietros still believed in silly notions like true love, he found himself attracted to Naevia’s older cousin, Barca. He was a beautiful man, taller than Pietros even after his growth spurt, who laughed loud and spoke louder. He’d given Pietros nothing but a few smiles and words of advice on his future before leaving each time, arm and arm with the same man Naevia swore he was going to marry. 

He’d developed something between a crush and an obsession after that; bothered Naevia for stories and family photos of the gorgeous man with the long, twisted strands of hair. His little just-starting-puberty mind fantasized about those hands on his skin, that deep voice whispering in his ear, and left desire and flat-out want burning in Pietros’ belly for years to come. They met a few times after that, each moment another addition to the dream-life and future Pietros built up in his head, but then Pietros got older, moved off to college, and left his life and former friendship with his babysitter mostly behind. Part of him always thought about Barca though; what he was doing, if he was happy, and where life had brought him. 

He never expected to meet him again, sitting across a cafeteria table at the hospital where Pietros worked. Barca clearly didn’t remember him and that stung a little, knowing the man he’d met and fantasized about for over ten years of his life couldn’t even remember his name outside of a piece of paper. There wasn’t any flash of recognition in his eyes as he went through his notes, reading off Pietros’ stats and credentials with barely any inflection in his voice.

He looked tired; that special sort of worn-out that only came with months full of really bad days, little sleep, and from the smell, just coming off a few benders. The years had been good to him, true, and he was still gorgeous, but there was an anger there that Pietros just wanted to soothe away. 

It wasn’t his place and he doubted it ever would be. With the way Barca was attempting this half-blackmail-half-job-spiel, it showed he clearly didn’t want to be here. That stung a little bit more; Pietros knew he wasn’t _unattractive_ but Barca refused to even meet his eyes now. 

Pietros was smart, really smart, and got into a degree program that took him straight from high school through to a Doctor of Pharmacy. He was also street smart and he knew damn well this all had something to do with Naevia. She was his old babysitter, he still talked to her at least once a month, and he knew she came from a family of forgers and counterfeiters. There was no condemnation there; Naevia was even working for the government now and Pietros had an inkling that he knew just this was about.

“Really, Barca? The best your people can come up with is library fines? Ones I actually paid off before I graduated? This is my record you’re going to attempt to clear with a job offer? What do you people need me for? I’m not a chemist and won’t work well in some government think tank.”

“You know your drugs,” Barca said, finally looking up from his paper. “How did you know my name?”

“It was on the identification you showed me,” Pietros said. “I’m used to reading them that fast.” 

“Right,” Barca said as he sorted through his papers. “I’ll cut the bullshit then. We’d like to invite you to a meeting with our Assistant Director. He’ll have the more pertinent questions and answers.” Barca slid a paper card across the table. “That’s the time and place if you’re interested. If not, just forget this ever happened and go on with your life.” He stood and straightened out his suit. “Good day, Dr. Malek.”

Pietros waited until Barca cleared the bench before speaking again. “How’s Auctus?” he asked.

That was enough to garner a reaction. Barca slowly turned around and walked over to him. He leaned over Pietros in a way that was probably meant to be intimidating; it only made Pietros wonder what cologne Barca wore.

“How do you know that name?” Barca asked. 

Pietros smirked. “You brought him around to Naevia’s house for family dinners. You were both a lot younger then, so I can understand how your mind could’ve blanked.”

“Fuck me,” Barca said as he leaned back and, sadly, out of Pietros’ space. “The little pipsqueak grew up. Puberty was your friend.” He studied Pietros’ face. “Your coke-bottle glasses are gone. Contacts or Lasik?”

“Contacts,” Pietros said. “I’m suspicious about lasers near my eyes.”

Barca nodded in approval. “They were cute on you. You had that adorable nerd thing going on as a kid. Probably should’ve stuck with it; it was distinctive. Now you look like every other jackass on the street.”

Pietros grinned. “Right, that’s what you can’t stop looking at my mouth.” He stood and brushed against Barca as he passed. “Even if I don’t call Oenomaus, you know where to find me.”

That burning was back in Pietros’ belly but when he turned his head to look back, it was to meet Barca’s eyes and their appreciative glance. 

Life was about to get interesting again.


End file.
